Tim felt her heart sink. Her chest hurt. Her heart hurt.

She sank into her chair as Gibbs loomed over her, trying to find something to say.

But what was she to say?

He had just told her. He had just…

Langer was –

Lee had –

She couldn't breathe.

It couldn't have been him. She was sure of it. She had been sure of it.

She closed her eyes to shut out Gibbs.

Langer?

She watched along with the others as Lee walked down the step like it was any other night. Like there was nothing wrong.

Lee smiled at them. Wished them goodnight. Walked to the elevator.

Tim's stomach rolled.

She stayed where she was until the number for the floor below lit up above the elevator.

"I think I'm going to be sick,"

She staggered towards the restroom, deaf to the concerned questions of her teammates. Her vision blurring at the edges. Hot tears beginning to fall down her cheeks as she pushed open the door and stumbled to a stall. The door bounced against the wall of the neighbouring stall. But she didn't care.

She fell in front of the toilet bowl and heaved.

Lee was dead. Tim had wanted her dead. She had never wanted someone dead so much in her life. Why should that woman be allowed to breathe still when Brent was dead and buried. Branded a traitor.

There was a knock on her car window and she looked up in fright.

It was Tony.

He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, sliding into the seat.

"Hey, are you OK?"

Was she OK? She had never wanted to shoot someone in cold blood before. Never felt her trigger finger itch every time she was in presence of another person. Never felt the weight of her hidden knife so much…

She shook her head.

"Want to talk about it?" Tony's hand landed gently on her shoulder.

This Tony was a Tony not many people got to see. The caring, non-joker side. The fact that she had made him become serious made her want to cry.

Did she want to talk about it?

Director Vance had tried to talk to her after Brent had died. She had met with him often during her time in cybercrimes and whenever the subject of the ex-FBI man came up she had told him that she did not think it was him.

When it had turned out it was…well he had been kind and understanding about it. Seeing that it was affecting her more than it should have. After all, she wasn't an undercover agent. She had never been in the position before. She didn't know how to separate her emotions.

And then, when it had come to light that Lee was responsible he had called her into his office again. And much to her surprise he had apologised to her. Apologised for thinking that she had allowed her emotions to cloud her judgment. She supposed she did. But then what was Gibbs doing every time he attributed something to his infallible 'gut'? Wasn't that emotion?

She was grateful to the Director for trying. It was more than Gibbs had done. She refused to go to his home and walk down his basement steps to vent. What would she do? Scream and cry that it wasn't fair. That he had allowed – even for a second – his protective instincts to flare where Lee was concerned. That even for a moment his judgment had been clouded.

Had it?

It seemed like it to her. But then she wasn't in his head.

And now, she sat in her car with Tony at her side asking if she wanted to talk about it.

She shook her head slowly but words came out of her mouth unwillingly.

"He joked that I was the reason he had transferred from the FBI," she whispered, "Said things had changed here, that something…something had made it more appealing," her voice was becoming thick, tears were burning behind her eyes, making her nose tickle.

"Director Vance had me keep an eye on him when he started coming to take me for lunch. Always reminded me that he could be a traitor. That it could all be an act,"

The first tear slid from beneath her eye lid and just like that the dam that had been keeping her emotions in check cracked and then collapsed completely.

She began to sob and Tony's arms came around her.

It was awkward being comforted in the front of her car but she was grateful for it. She hadn't realised just how much she needed it.

He made nonsensical hushing noises into her hair, rocking her slightly from side to side as much as the space allowed.

"I really liked him," she cried into his chest, somehow managing to turn in her seat "But a part of me always thought he could be pretending…and he wasn't" she wailed.

"Shhh," she felt a kiss being pressed into her hair and it made her sob even harder.

"I wanted her dead, Tony," she breathed, trying to regain her composure but failing as another flood of tears came streaming down her face, "I wanted her dead so much for what she did. For what she made people think about him,"

"Shhh…I know,"

"And I shouldn't have," she sighed heavily into Tony's tear damped shirt, "She had her reasons,"

"Shhh," he was rubbing her back now like she was a child.

"But I don't care what her reasons were. I wanted her dead…"

"Shh Tim. It's alright. She did something that was unforgivable. You are allowed to hate her,"

Tim concentrated on her breathing, forcing herself to not stutter with her inward breaths. Calming herself with each full breath she achieved. Her tears still fell scorching and silent down her flushed cheeks.

Someone she trusted – Tony – had just given her permission to hate the woman who was now dead.

Why didn't it make her feel any better?

After all, now they were both dead. And if this job had taught her anything it was that another dead body couldn't bring back someone no matter how hard you wished it.

He was gone.

Sad :(

I was getting a bit misty eyed while I was typing this bit, I admit.

Take care everyone.

I'll see you later with a happier one-shot. Promise :)

:)